Photography or Pornography?
by Z.Romance
Summary: Seto Kaiba knows that his less-than-innocent hobby could ruin him should it ever become public knowledge. Not that a threat like that would ever stop him. As he and his brother drift apart over the mysterious Cameron and Kisara begins crossing boundaries in her and Seto's "relationship," will Seto figure out what's good for him before it's all taken away for good?
1. A Bit Hypocritical

**Originally, I'd planned to publish another yaoi oneshot, but this idea formed so easily and quickly, I felt that it would be a waste to let it stagnate when it was ready to be written now. **

**Chapter One: A Bit of a Hypocrite**

"Can you believe it?" Pegasus asked laughingly, looking at the morning paper. Seto barely glanced up before flicking his eyes back down to his own copy.

"It doesn't surprise me, if that's what you mean," he responded dryly.

Randall Winsworth, named partner in the world renowned Winsworth & Gerald law firm, had been found in Tokyo with a modern-day geisha, or two, while his wife was home with their two children and pregnant with their third. Even the classy newspapers were screaming 'Sex Scandal!' to pull in the readers.

"Frankly, I thought our dear Randall was too smart to get involved in something that could ruin him so easily, especially with the clientele he works with. He should have learned from their mistakes. Maybe the naughtiness rubbed off on him, eh, Kaiba-boy?" Pegasus chuckled lewdly.

"Hn. Didn't you employ him to defend _you_ once?" Seto asked, snagging his mug of coffee from the low table between them.

"Oo, low blow, Kaiba-boy," Pegasus remarked amusedly before turning to look out the window of the aircraft. How Seto had been conned into giving the man a ride back to Domino after their business meeting in San Francisco puzzled Seto. Why not just have the meeting in Domino if Pegasus needed to go there anyway? But, he was stuck with him now, at 30,000 feet in his own private jet, forced to have brunch with the one-eyed man.

"_Mr. Kaiba? There's a phone call for you from your brother,_" the pilot announced over the intercom.

A landline-styled phone was set into the wall of the plane just to Seto's right. He noticed that Pegasus watched intently as Seto picked up the receiver and put it to his ear.

"Mokuba," was his greeting.

"Hi, Seto!" Seto felt his lips twitch upward for a moment at his brother's enthusiasm. "How did it all go?"

"We were able to come to a suitable agreement for everyone," Seto blandly answered.

"Uh-huh. Hey, did you hear about Randall Winsworth?" Mokuba asked, his voice cracking just a bit, a sign of his not-so-recent entrance into puberty.

"Yes," Seto sighed. "Everyone has told me about screw-up Winsworth. Let me guess, it was actually _three_ geishas, not just the two."

"There were two? Damn. Guy got around." Mokuba laughed with a fourteen-year-old's immaturity, causing Seto to roll his eyes, though not cruelly. It wasn't as if Mokuba could see anyway. "So, when can I expect you home? Did you leave on time?"

"No, we didn't leave on time." Seto sent a bored glare over to the owner of Industrial Illusions, who shrugged faux-innocently and said, "I had to pack the essentials before we took off, Kaiba-boy. Fabulous-ness takes work."

"Pegasus hitched a ride, and it took forever to pack his "fabulous"-gear." Pegasus and he had already signed a deal that would legally bind Industrial Illusions and Kaiba Corporation to each other for the next five years, so Seto didn't need to suck up or even be remotely kind to Pegasus to gain his favor. Not that he would have anyway; Pegasus _liked_ Seto's attitude for some obscure (probably twisted) reason.

Mokuba snorted. "Why didn't you just have the meeting here?"

"That's a very good question." Seto ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back, trying to get it out of his eyes. He needed to cut his bangs once he got home.

"When will you be home then?" Mokuba asked again, a bit more eagerly this time, as if he had something he planned on doing...

"Why?" Seto asked, more interested than suspicious.

"I just want to know when my big brother's going to get home," Mokuba answered, sounding as innocent as Pegasus did for making their take-off late.

"Right. I'll be home around two. Don't end up like Randall between now and then," Seto warned.

"Ha ha," Mokuba said sarcastically. "Don't quit your day-job to become a comedian, Seto. I may not be home when you get here if that's when you're getting here."

"That's fine," Seto responded, feeling the waves of relief through the phone line as he said it. "Just do me two things."

"Yeah, sure. What do you need done?"

"First, get Roland to call Ms. Linsey and have him reschedule my meeting with her for five rather than four thirty today."

"'Kay. Wait a minute, you were already going to bail on me, and you're still making me do this? That's entrapment, Seto," Mokuba teasingly accused.

"No, entrapment would be if I were a policeman making you, a criminal, confess to your crime through the use of a trap," Seto corrected. Mokuba sighed over the line, and Seto thought he heard him mutter, "Still seems pretty close to me."

"If you still want to be a lawyer, you'd be smart to figure out the difference."

"If I pull a Randall, than I doubt any law school will want me," Mokuba joked. "So, what's the second thing you want from me?"

"For you to tell me what you're doing that takes you out of the house at two this afternoon."

"Ah, come on, Seto!" Mokuba protested ineloquently. "Give me some room; you're turning into a helicopter brother, which is just wrong."

"Oddly enough, I really don't care. Tell me what you're doing," Seto pushed. He didn't care if it did make him "lame," he wanted to know where his little brother was going.

Mokuba gave another exorbitant sigh. "I'm going on a date, all right?"

"With who?" Seto wasn't letting up there. Was this Mokuba's first date? If it wasn't, had he told Seto about the others, and, if it was, had he specifically planned it so Seto wouldn't have time to get the details such as the who, what, where, when, why, and how?

"Okay, I really feel uncomfortable telling you that, brother," Mokuba admitted, seeming like he actually meant it. He should have known better that that wouldn't make Seto drop it; if anything, he was tightly latched onto this now.

"_Why_ do you feel uncomfortable, Mokuba? If you're uncomfortable do you really think you should be seeing this person?"

"That… was right out of a freaking pamphlet or something wasn't it? I'm _uncomfortable_ because this person happens to be a little older than me, is all," Mokuba said, trying to clam everything down.

"How _much_ older? Are we talking statutory rape older, Mokuba?"

"Things are getting juicy," Pegasus remarked from across the table about to take a sip of the breakfast tea he'd called for. Seto had forgotten he was there and gave the man an icy glare that the recipient seemed impervious to before focusing his attention once again on his little brother.

"They're your age-ish," Mokuba answered reluctantly.

"My age," Seto repeated flatly. Seto was about to turn twenty in a few weeks. So, yes, the person was in the statutory rape age category. But, this woman (because she was certainly not a 'girl' at this point in comparison to Mokuba) couldn't pose too large of a threat, right? Not to disparage the fairer sex, but Seto doubted that most women could actually warrant being considered all that dangerous under any circumstance on a physical level, even if the victim was a fourteen-year-old boy.

"Look, you know them, Seto, so I don't think I have much to worry about, you know?" Mokuba offered, trying to smooth things over the best way he could: by forcing Seto to either admit he kept seedy company, or admit that the person must be okay enough to go out with.

If Seto wanted, he could think his way out of the corner he'd been backed into, rather easily actually, or he could even just put his foot down, tell Mokuba he couldn't go, and get his home security force to make sure Mokuba didn't leave the house until Seto got there… or, he could give his brother the space he mentioned earlier and let him go on the date.

Seto ran his hand through his hair again, this time more in frustration than a need to move his hair out of the way.

"At least give me a name, Mokuba, so I'll know who to track down when you go missing."

Mokuba chuckled a little, much of his tension leaving him. "Wasn't that what made me feel uneasy in the first place?"

"A first name. _Something,_ Mokuba, just give me something," Seto prodded, seeming to gather up all the stress that Mokuba had just let go of and gather into a tight, heavy ball low in his gut.

"Cameron, that's their first name," Mokuba finally told him. "You know, like 'Diaz,' but not."

"Make sure _Cameron_ knows what's coming after her should anything happen to you," Seto ordered, not exactly content with only the first name.

"Um, yeah, I'll do that, _not_. Is there anything else you need me to do, Seto?" Mokuba was nervous again, and ready and rearing to get off the phone.

"Ignore what I told you to tell Roland. I can meet Ms. Linsey at the original time," Seto said tiredly. _His little Mokuba was growing up_.

"Already forgotten," Mokuba yarned. "Hey, even though you were only gone a few days, you know I'm glad you're coming back, right?"

Mokuba was always glad when Seto came back, but Seto had reason to really appreciate it this time. "Yes, of course I know," he said briskly, doing his best to return to his normal, aloof persona.

Mokuba laughed lightly. "I'll see you when _I_ get back. Bye, Seto!"

"Goodbye."

Seto hung up and immediately tried to refocus on the paper that his staff had picked up for him, as well as one for Pegasus when they knew he was tagging along, that morning before wheels-up. He just wanted to block out everything, especially the conversation he'd just had with his _baby_ brother, but also the horrendously annoying and interfering clown across from him.

The first line that jumped out to him was, 'Both geishas were less than half the age of Mr. Winsworth.'

Mokuba wasn't half the age of Cameron, but the disgust that framed the line in the paper was very much like what Seto was feeling when he thought of his brother with _Cameron_.

Seto tossed the paper onto the table, unable to take what it wanted to dish at him at the moment. Looking up, Pegasus was already staring at him with a smugly knowing look.

"Hmm."

Seto braced for what was to come from the pompously debonair businessman. But, Pegasus did something that was very unlike him: he let an opportunity to hide Kaiba where it hurt drop... mostly.

The man instead turned his still knowing face to the window and watched the clouds as he returned to the topic they'd been rolling in before Mokuba's call.

"You know, I wonder if the everyday people ever have as much drama in their lives as we well-known types do. Do they have the two-geishas-in-Tokyo discoveries? Do they have the young-loved-one-dating-someone-entirely-too-old-for-them phone calls?"

Seto took a moment before, scoffing, answering, "Of course they do. They may not be a publicized or as important to anyone but themselves, but they happen. They just get that luxury of no one else caring or wanting to be involved. They have the anonymity that we try to achieve when we do get into a two-geishas-in-Tokyo situation."

Pegasus exhaled theatrically, turning his gaze downward at his tea. "You're probably right, my dearest of dears Kaiba-boy."

Seto winced at the overly tender and completely unfounded endearment.

"So, what is it that you are planning to do with Ms. Linsey this afternoon?" Pegasus lightly queried, seeming to change the subject until he tacked on, "Or, is your little brother's dating habits immoral enough that letting whatever it is slip would just be too much depravity, especially on the heels of Randall Winsworth?"

Pegasus chortled merrily, if delinquently.

"Ms. Linsey is a graphic designer for Kaiba Corp.'s advertising department. She's good at what she does, and we're planning on having her lead a new campaign for us in just a couple of weeks."

"And, you two will be going over…?"

"Color and placement."

Pegasus pouted. "How boring and… ethical."

Seto let a sneer spread across his face as he grabbed his mug again. "Well, not all of us spend our time painting half-naked women for a card game, Pegasus."

"No, I suppose not. People would be having much too much fun if they did."

* * *

><p>Seto arrived at the house at two twelve, and, true to his word, Mokuba was gone, off on his date with Cameron.<p>

Seto felt the weighted ball of anxiety most pointedly again when he read a brief note Mokuba had left him:

_Seto, welcome back! I've got to go, so I'll make this short. You have my cell number, but I'm not giving you Cameron's. Cameron promises to have me back by six, so I'll probably be back even before you. Have fun! Mokuba._

Six was reasonable… when you were talking about a time to bring a date home it might even be overly reasonable. But, six when it was how many years separated you from the one you were going on a date with was pushing it for Seto.

But, he had to let it go for now. He was absolutely going to be pumping Mokuba for information on Cameron the moment they were face to face, but now he needed to get ready for his meeting in a couple of hours.

He rolled his wheeled suitcase through the halls of the mansion, carrying it only up one flight of stairs before setting it down to move on its own two wheels again. Making it to his featureless room, Seto took the Kaiba Corp. related items from it, as well as his own hygienic tools such as a razor and shaving cream, toothbrush and toothpaste, portable shampoo and body wash, etc. out, and left the suitcase with what was left in it outside of his door for one of the few servants he chose to employ would grab it and take the clothes in it down to the laundry and the suitcase itself to storage.

Even though he knew he'd just be taking one later, Seto got into the shower and let the warm water do its best to relax him. It didn't work, but Seto liked the idea that he'd be clean to start with once he met up with Ms. Linsey.

He got into a completely different outfit once he toweled down after the shower. He wore a black turtleneck, which wasn't that odd for Kaiba, but he also wore jeans, which, again, wasn't _too_ odd, but the fact that they were of the pre-ripped variety was, as were the black and white sneakers on his feet. It was _not_ an outfit of the normal Seto Kaiba variety. Yet, it was necessary.

Looking at the time, it was now two forty-three. It would take an hour to get the place where the meeting was set, which was why Seto had wanted to push everything back an hour after his delayed departure from San Francisco. But, with no Mokuba to catch up with and no other pressing matters to take care of, there hadn't been much of a need for any added holdups.

Seto did need to grab some things from his home office before he left for the scheduled rendezvous. When he opened the door to the hallway, Valerie, the maid, was just about to wheel his suitcase away.

"Valerie," he greeted, not kindly, but not especially cruelly either. Valerie was a new addition, a replacement to a maid who'd been leftover since Gozaburo's time ruling the manor but had decided to leave after several decades spent into the service of the Kaiba family. Seto had trusted her, and liked her to a finite degree. This new maid he knew nothing about; he had no clue where her loyalties lay, so she was not, as of yet, on his approved of list, which would be the most she could ever hope for.

"Mr. Kaiba." The servants weren't required to dress in uniforms or act as if Seto and Mokuba were royalty while they were lowly surfs, but Valerie's old place of employment had been, so it took only a moment to figure out why the girl suddenly bobbed a curtsey to him.

"I hope your trip went well, sir?" Valerie kept her eyes lowered in deference. No, she was looking at his shoes, his sneakers. And, her eyes were slowly traveling upward, an expression of perplexities and almost derision on her features, especially as she ran them over the torn patches in the jeans. Eventually, her eyes reached Seto's, and she immediately returned her eyes to the floor at the look of cold annoyance and affront on Seto's face.

"Yes. The trip went well. Tell Roland to meet me in my office immediately," he commanded her, voice biting as frost and just as forgiving.

"Absolutely, _sir_." Valerie quickly spun on her heel and took off with the suitcase before Seto could berate and possibly dismiss her for sneering the term 'sir' straight to his face. Seto did not need a second attitude in this house to rival his own, especially when that attitude was being presented by the help. Valerie had better get things together soon, or she'd be gone with absolutely the worst possible references to get her into a new placement. Seto would let this _one_ instance slide, but that was it.

Seto's office was closer to Mokuba's room that to Seto's as it happened. They division of the rooms after Gozaburo's death was all about getting the two brothers as close as possible without smothering the two of them. So the bedroom's were placed near each other, but Seto had chosen the room that would become his office as being even closer to Mokuba's room because, even then, he was aware that he'd be spending more time in it than anywhere else. It had made nightmares and simple loneliness easier to combat in the end when Mokuba hurried into the office late at night, wanting comfort from his brother.

The office was also much more personalized than his bedroom. Blues and chromes were the main color scheme, with lots of black ergonomic furniture thrown in and a modern, decisively _not_ wood desk took up residence in the midst of all the dark colors and metallic accents. A Blue-Eyes White Dragon print, designed by none other than Ms. Linsey, was framed on one of the walls, and a fairly recent family photo of himself and Mokuba, both of them with actually semi-cheerful expressions on their faces, was set beside the computer monitor in the desk where Seto could easily see it.

As odd and, well, _sick_ as it was, that was the picture that probably got him interested in photography in the first place.

Going behind the plastic and metal desk, Seto sat down in his leather seat and turned toward the left-hand side of it. A switch in the underside of the desk caused a panel to move aside on the desktop itself, and Seto was confronted by a numerical keypad. The numbers he entered were a mixture of his and Mokuba's birthdates, but they were in such a sequence, nobody but Seto, and perhaps Mokuba, would be able to uncover their significance.

Rather than several drawers running down the back of the left-hand side of the desk, only one large, single drawer was there, and it slowly released its lock as the code was correctly put into it.

Inside was an average, army green-colored backpack and several aligned and stacked albums. Seto pulled the backpack out and shouldered it, ready to make his break once he gave Roland his orders. As he stood waiting, he ran his finger over the spines of the two newest editions to the collection and was even empted to take one out and look at it. But, though he knew where each photo was placed in each of the handful of albums that were present, he had never once gone back and looked over his work, and he wasn't about to start going through them now.

He slid the drawer shut as he heard footsteps coming down the hallway. Roland appeared, his sunglasses off for once, and immediately came to attention right in the doorway.

"You requested to see me, Mr. Kaiba," Roland stated sharply, officially.

Seto smirked slightly to himself. If ever he were to get another personal assistant, which, in the long run, he probably would have to, he would definitely get another who was ex-military. They took orders well and weren't afraid to do some actual work.

"There are some documents in my room in regards to Kaiba Corp. Get them and take them to my office downtown, Roland."

"Yes, sir."

"I'm leaving for a meeting with Ms. Linsey. Don't expect me home until after seven or possibly eight."

"Yes, sir."

If Roland had questions about why he was meeting Ms. Linsey in the outfit he was currently in, he kept them to himself, another positive trait.

"That's all."

"Yes, sir. And, welcome home, Mr. Kaiba." Roland nodded to him before disappearing back into the hallway.

* * *

><p>Seto left the mansion a few minutes later. The security personnel manning the gate nodded at him in greeting before letting him through, on foot. The area that the Kaiba mansion was located in was a place for the wealthy and antisocial. No one was seen jogging or walking their dog down the streets any time of day, and tall stone fences hide the properties behind them, with gates breaking them up every so often that only showed long drives up to the actual houses.<p>

Seto didn't feel exposed as he walked through the area in his less-than-elitist garb. No one would ever even know he'd been by. This lasted for only a few blocks, but it was enough for Seto to feel mildly safe since he would immediately have seen if anyone was following him for one, and because, once he was out of the superior section of town, no one would ever believe that was where he came from.

Seto Kaiba did not want to be followed, not when he was going to see Ms. Linsey.

A couple more blocks got Seto to a bus stop outside of a Bohemian food market. On the pole that marked the stop, someone had crookedly screwed on a sign that said 'Think Green, Think Buses.' Seto was almost certain that posting anything other than the bus schedule was illegal when it came to public transit (not that this was his area of expertise), but Seto had been using this stop for months and that sign had been stuck up just days after he'd begun. Domino Transit probably viewed it as free advertisement to the hippies that flocked to the market, so it was doubtful the sign would be coming down soon.

The bus was already rounding the corner towards him when Seto pulled from the backpack a black, non-glossy windbreaker, and a navy baseball cap. He deftly slipped on the jacket, re-shouldered his backpack, and tugged the cap down so that it covered his face and mussed his hair before the bus had come to a complete stop in front of him. He stepped aside as an aging pair still stuck in the sixties clambered off with their recycled, reusable bags, their destination obvious.

Seto recognized the bus driver, and he was sure that the man recognized him as well, if only from the cap, jacket and backpack. He let his fifty cents jangle into the coin collector as he felt the bus driver watching him before he muttered, "Transfer to J-Route."

"Right-o," the driver responded with not near enough gusto as the word required.

Seto shuffled back, making sure to change his walk and his stature to avoid detection, to take the seat opposite the mid-way exit so that he wouldn't have to go by the bus driver again that day. The bus Seto was on, the E-Route, started to make its ponderous, stop-filled way back to the center of town where the Transfer Station was located. It took about twenty minutes to get there, and then all the buses sat for another five to ten minutes depending on the day, so that all the buses planned to arrive and drop off transfers would have the chance to. At this point, Seto slipped through the mid-way exit of the bus to wait for a late J-Route to arrive, and then strode into that bus, letting the much less wary driver know he was a transfer so he wouldn't have to pay again to ride.

After that, the J-Route made a circuit through the city center, before heading West, near the docks and shipping yards. Seto's destination was close to there. Once the bus began to double-back towards the city about twenty minutes later, Seto pulled the string to let the driver know he was getting off. He waited for the bus to completely pull away and go around the next corner before Seto stripped of the cap and jacket and began heading South, to the starving artist district of town.

After a few blocks, the streets became fairly populated with people, dressed much like Seto, who, rather than being stuck in the sixties, were stuck in the fifties, though most of them hadn't even been born yet when the fifties were happening. Some of their _parents_ hadn't even been born.

The apartments and stores in this area catered to a modern beatnik sort of crowd, with lots of cafes advertising poetry slams and espressos, several hole-in-the-wall music stores promising obscure indi-rock and the like, and a few less-than-well-funded art galleries with some of the craziest shit marked as art that Seto had ever seen. Not that any of this took him by surprise; he'd seen it all time and time again whenever he came here. Hell, he _rented_ one of the apartments here for his own personal uses, and that's where he was heading now.

Apartment 3B was Seto's. It sat perched above one of the less densely packed streets in the area, above an empty store and overlooking on the opposite side of the street a place where you could get your fortune told and have your aura's color augmented while you shopped for sickly sweet smelling candles and incense. A giant poster advertising palm-reading covered up most of the window, so Seto couldn't see much else of what was inside, and he never planned on going in, so it was doubtful he'd ever know the full extent of hocus pocus that the owners were trying to sell.

The entrance to the apartment was actually through the empty store, so Seto had been given two keys when he'd begun renting, plus a second set that had gone to Ms. Linsey. The first opened the store, which Seto made sure to relock behind him every time he unlocked it, and the second was to the door of 3B itself. A steep set of stairs in the back of the deserted shop led up to a narrow crooked hallway, that led around the back of the building to apartment 2B (apartment 1B was situated on the ground floor beneath 2B and had direct access to it, and the A's were located in an entirely different building, which suited Seto and Ms. Linsey just fine).

As Seto hiked up the creaking stairs, a memory from that morning entered his head. It was of him accusing Pegasus of spending his time painting half-naked girls.

He reached the hallway and walked down to the door with the 'B' missing and the '3' hanging upside down. He didn't bother knocking, though Ms. Linsey had surely arrived by now. He _snicked_ the key into the lock and turned the key and knob both at once, allowing him entry. As he did so, he felt that he had to admit, if just to himself that he was a bit of a hypocrite. But, just a bit.

"You're late," a woman's voice accused, in a completely non-accusatory tone, from inside.

Seto smirked. "Miss me?" he asked, stepping into the apartment, securing the door after him with a deadbolt and chain he'd installed himself for when he was there.

"Parts of you," the voice teased.

Seto actually chortled a little. "Funny, cause I missed _all_ of you."

Seto didn't even bother to look around the room. He immediately set his eyes on the giant bed where Ms. Linsey lay…

…Where Ms. Linsey lay, completely nude, eyes hooded, and lips and legs parted.

Pegasus may spent his time painting _half_-naked, _fictional_ girls, but Seto spent his time photographing, completely naked, real-life women. Or, woman, as it were.

Ms. Linsey.

_Kisara_.

**Thanks for reading! **

**This is the first fic I have that's really well-planned out and ready to be typed. So, hopefully, the time in between updates won't be too long, though I do have other projects going on. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed, and I'd love to hear what you think so far. **


	2. A Bit Tame

**I did not expect such a long delay with this chapter. One thing that held it up was that this is the first heterosexual lemon that I've written for publication, and I didn't want to rush through it and have it turn out badly. There are other details and reasons as well, but, rather than take up a lot of space here, if you'd like to know more, you can read about it on my blog (the link is in my profile).**

**Warnings: Lemon, nude photography. **

**Chapter Two: Tame**

Apartment 3B was eight hundred square feet with one large room, a teeny tiny bathroom just to the right of the main doorway, a narrow bedroom hardly capable of holding a full-size bed, and a kitchenette shuffled off into the left corner in the main room. The cramped area was nothing like what you'd expect Kaiba to even know existed, much less set foot in, but that was the point. During his first few weeks of renting it, Seto had chosen to leave most of it as it was since the apartment itself didn't actually matter that much to him. He'd made only a few improvements: installing several shelving units in what had _used_ to be the bedroom, getting a new shower head in the bathroom, drilling several hooks into the ceiling of the main room, and finally hauling a bed frame piece by piece and setting it up in the middle of the main room.

"So, do you have a plan for today?" Seto asked as he walked across the room to place his backpack carefully down on the table by the windows. They were grimy, dingy, and leaky, but Seto was still able to look out over the fortuneteller's across the way. He couldn't help himself from snorting a little with derision before pulling the slightly moth-eaten curtains closed.

The springs groaned on the bed as Kisara shuffled her naked body off the currently bare mattress and snagged some sort of fabric from bedside table. It turned out to be a see-through pale yellow robe that barely reached mid-thigh when she put it on.

"I was thinking of using that gold and green embroidered quilt I bought the other day with it. And, something pale green could be hanged from the hooks for the background to go with it." Kisara did a little twirl as she finished speaking to show off the robe, but mostly ended up showing off everything else.

"Seems a little tame," Seto commented.

"It's classy."

Seto looked at her in a "_who are you and what have you done with my model?_" fashion. And, then he got offended.

Kisara saw this and tried to do some damage control. "I'm _not_ saying that the photos we're taking are trashy or anything like that."

"Maybe trashy was what I was going for."

Kisara rolled her eyes, fiddling with one of the robes almost too-long sleeves.

"…Fine, the yellow works," Seto conceded, flipping his hair out of his eyes. She actually looked pretty good in the color. Admittedly, she looked much better, amazing, in blue, but they'd spent the first two months or so with blues and were starting to branch out more and more now that they were almost in month four of their "relationship."

"Good." Kisara took a step forward, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him just under his jaw. Seto hummed briefly in appreciation before Kisara pulled away and headed for what had been a bedroom, but was now mostly a linen closet, albeit a fairly large one. Kisara had a credit card expressly for the buying of bedspreads, outfits, props, and the like, which they stored here at the apartment. Seto suspected that the shopping was Kisara's favorite part of their whole arrangement.

As Kisara went about making the bed and hanging the fabric in the background from those hooks Seto had installed, Seto sat down at the small table and opened his backpack, tacking out the carrying case that held his camera.

It was a higher end, _extremely_ expensive digital camera that Mokuba had given him for his _last_ birthday, having decided that Seto needed to get another hobby besides running Kaiba Corp. and playing Duel Monsters. If only Mokuba knew what Seto used it for… but his little brother was thankfully unaware that the camera had ever even left the closet where Seto tended to store the other presents that people gave him that he found little use for. It had admittedly spent several months there, wedged between an original Norman Rockwell print (way too cheesy and outdated for its recipient) and one of the first IBM computers ever made that the giver thought Seto would appreciate for its value as a cornerstone of the modern PCs (he did not, _so_ did not).

Seto pushed his hair out of his face again as he bent over his camera and its attachments, just as he'd done a thousand times already, but it was infuriatingly useless. It all just flopped back into place, shrouding his eyes. He made a truly disgusted sound in the back of his throat. He probably should have given it a quick, rudimentary trim before he came, but he'd been rather eager to get here.

"You're going cross-eyed glaring at your hair," Kisara informed him, amused but not even close to laughing at him.

Seto flipped his bangs out of his eyes to look at her.

"Let me cut it for you," she offered casually, pulling her own hair back behind her shoulders. "Unless you're trying for the angsty, emo look."

"Are you a barber on the side, as well?"

Kisara gave a brief laugh. "No. But, I do cut my own hair, and yours wouldn't be difficult. Plus, I have scissors handy, which is more than you can say right now."

Seto looked her over, a single eyebrow raised questioningly. Why_,_ exactly, did she need scissors when she came to these "meetings?"

Kisara gave another small chuckle. "Trust trust me, 'kay?"

She didn't wait for his answer. She went back into the cramped bathroom and rummaged in the bag she had slung over the door that contained all of the various personal toiletries that she brought with her every time they came together.

_As if I have any choice but to trust her._

Seto stood up and dragged his chair with him to a clear spot in the middle of the room as Kisara came back out with a towel in one hand and the slightly ominous seeming scissors in the other as well as a less portentous plastic black comb.

"Have a seat," she ordered, gesturing at the chair that Seto had somehow managed to place between the two of them, much like a shield or barrier of some sort.

Seto did sit down, grumbling all the while as Kisara came up behind him wrapped the towel across his shoulders.

"Don't just cut it straight across." _Seto was __**not**__ going to be one of those tech-savvy, billionaire CEOs with a bowl cut. _

Kisara rolled her eyes behind his back. "Got it," she said as she came back into his view. She quickly combed his bangs out and had to keep herself from chuckling at how it made him look like a sheepdog, especially as she felt Seto glaring at her even through the hair.

As she began to actually cut, she noticed that Seto seemed to flinch a little each time the scissors rasped together.

"What's stressing you out so terribly? You're not usually this bad," Kisara calmly noticed as she snipped away.

"I'll be better afterwards," Seto said, trying to relax. Opening his eyes a slit, he saw her blue-veined wrist hovering a few inches from his face and thought that, should he ever get bored with his current photographic obsession, he'd like to start taking pictures of people's wrists and ankles and such. He'd actually be able to go public with a hobby like that, and it would be interesting matching up how different people's different circulatory systems compared to each other, on the outside, at least.

But, not until he was done with his current work. _If_ he was ever done with his current work. That didn't seem likely at this point.

"That's not what I asked," Kisara pointed out.

"It's personal," he growled.

Kisara paused a moment before shrugging and continuing with his haircut.

"It's not your job, _any_ of your jobs, to know what's bothering me, Kisara," Seto said, his voice tinged in reproach.

Kisara nodded. "I know that. I do."

_Then, why do you need reminding?_

Seto was not ungrateful for the services that Kisara provided. Neither was he unaware of how _generous_ and _accommodating_ she was in particular aspects of it. But, whether with her work here in the apartment or the actual jobs she held at Kaiba Corp., she was still just a paid employee not meant to get close to her employer in any way that was beyond physical.

Kisara finished evening out his bangs a minute later.

"There. Done."

He nodded as he rubbed and brushed some stray bristles from his face and onto the towel.

Holding the towel in such a way that it wouldn't let its contents fall to the ground, Seto stood up and ordered as he headed for the bathroom, "Find a pose. We'll get started when I get back."

* * *

><p>The first photo of each shoot was always something tame and not very outrageous or revealing, just to get them into them into the rhythm of pose, capture, repose. This time, Kisara just lay down on her back with the robe tied and covering everything as well as it was capable of. Seto snapped the shot even though they both knew it, and the few after it, would be deleted just as soon as they were finished here.<p>

But, it didn't take long for the pictures to start becoming racier. Soon the robe was untied and hanging off one shoulder, showing off her smooth, pale breasts with their rosebud-colored tips, as Kisara raised her arms above her head and let one leg dangle teasingly over the side of the bed, not quite revealing anything but her chest as she reclined on her chosen quilt. This was a picture that Seto knew he would be keeping, _if_ he could just get her to stop _smiling_.

"Kisara," he said warningly. She knew what she was doing; she always smiled, like she got a kick out of what they were doing, which she probably did.

"Sorry." She bit her lip to try to stop herself, but that just made the smiling stretched out and painful.

Seto just let her have a moment to calm down and get back into character, or whatever it was she did to make the misplaced delight go away. With all the time they'd spent together doing this, they both had a fairly good idea of what made each other tic, and yelling or even getting overly stern with Kisara never ended in anything good for either of them, especially since Kisara had a good pair of lungs to yell back with should he push too far. Neither had any clue if the other apartments had tenants or if they were the only ones in the entire building, but they'd rather not find out through a noise complaint or the police being called about a domestic disturbance.

Kisara finally got herself under control, and Seto couldn't stop himself from quipping, "Are we ready?" while lifting his camera in question.

Kisara briefly squinted at him and Seto saw the threat of a grin. "Yes, _we_ are."

Kisara rolled over, looking over her unclad shoulder with a smoldering, smile-free stare as she showed off her rear assets, the yellow robe not at all doing the job it was originally intended for.

"That's better," he muttered, maneuvering his camera and taking the shot.

About an hour later, Seto finally put the camera down on the table by the windows and shut it off, but Kisara didn't move from her position. They'd ended with her perching on the edge of the bed, one leg bent so that the foot was up on the bed, and the other stretched so that it looked like that of a ballerina's, the toes pointed and barely touching the floor with the way she had it tautly arched. The gold and green quilt was completely mussed from Kisara's nearly constant state of movement between postures while the robe was covering absolutely nothing but her wrists where it gathered behind her.

Of course, that was nowhere near as the exposed nature of the juncture of her thighs that the pose left her in. Seto, through his camera, had been able to see _everything_, not that this was the first time he ever had.

Seto turned back to the window to put the camera back away in its case that he still had placed over there. Then, he grabbed something from his backpack and put it in his pocket.

"Hurry up, Seto," Kisara said as he started walking away. "This isn't exactly comfortable."

Seto laughed silently to himself with his back still turned, but, as he slid his camera carefully away, he couldn't help but lick his dry lips as he thought of the position he'd left her in.

"What are you thinking about?" Kisara purred, seeing as Seto rolled his shoulders to ease the sexual tension that had been building up. He may have been able to hold himself together, almost without effort, when he'd first come in, but even he could only keep that sort of cold distance around a beautiful, bare woman for a short time before it got to him completely.

"…I'm thinking about the next bedspread we should use," he said, turning back to face her.

A kinky smile played around her lips. "Liar."

He sat down on the bed next to her, looking down, and Kisara found it impossible to discern whether he was ogling the floor, her leg, or somewhere else, somewhere that he'd been looking at through the lens of a camera for the past four months, getting a tinge of pink on his cheeks whenever he did, which was the reason that Kisara had a hard time not smiling a lot of the time.

_He has that tinge of pink now, so maybe it wasn't so impossible to discern where he was looking_, Kisara thought with another wicked smirk. Deciding to play along with what Seto had said, Kisara asked him, "So, what sort of bedspread are you thinking of for next time?"

Seto saw her flex her back as she snarkily questioned him, having remained in that same uncomfortable, revealing position for so long. It was a pity that Seto liked her so much in that position.

"Red," he answered, looping his arm under her raised knee and allowing her to relax it as he began stroking his fingers over the skin of her inner thigh.

"Red," Kisara repeated lazily, enjoying the feel of his fingers as she lay back on the bed, on the gold sheets she had put on under the quilt.

"Yeah, red." Seto's hand began moving higher, just to the side of its ultimate destination.

"Mm. I like red…"

Seto lay down next to her. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Kisara rolled slightly to bring them face to face to give him a kiss on the lips. The kiss didn't let up for a long time and only changed to deepen and heat when Seto's fingers began to stroke against her entrance.

She was already wet and _ever_ so hot, the act of being photographed in such a way having already done some to turn Kisara on, something else that Seto liked so much about Kisara.

Kisara moved against him for just a moment to tug the robe from binding her hands to her sides in order to bring them forward to tug Seto's shirt from his torso. Once it was tugged from his arms, Seto put his hand right back where it had been, but this time, inserted two of his fingers inside of her. Kisara's canal immediately clamped down on them and she gave a groan as she began to move herself slightly on them.

Her hands made his way to his zipper and tugged it down, but Seto took over pretty soon, having to keep track of what he had in his pocket.

Kisara bit his lip in reprimand for not letting her continue undressing him, but otherwise let it slid. Seto continued stretching her and sliding his fingers in and out of her down below as he slowly but surely got his own clothes off until he was just as naked as she was.

In his free hand he had the condom that he'd put in his jeans' pocket; it was important to be safe. Kisara grabbed the condom from him, got it out of its wrapping, and unrolled it over his length.

Seto extracted his fingers and he and Kisara rolled across the bed so that she was beneath him. Kisara's eyes glittered excitedly, and Seto couldn't help but smirk at being the one to make them do that. He raised a brow, not wanting to be an impatient jerk who ended up hurting his lover.

Kisara, her cheeks flushed by now, nodded eagerly and added in a wink to assure him that she was ready.

That was all Seto needed to know before he positioned himself and slowly pressed himself deep inside of her.

Kisara moaned as she stretched to fit Seto. Not in a bad way. In a _very_ good way. She gasped quickly, in a high pitch, as Seto bent his head and licked up her neck, from shoulder to jaw line, just to make sure that she was distracted from any pain that might exist.

But, she'd never made that sound before, and Seto couldn't help being smug as he pressed a juicy kiss to her cheek. Kisara shifted a little and wrapped her arms around his neck to pull his lips in for an almost vicious kiss, showing how into it she was getting, and Seto had even begun moving yet.

That changed pretty quickly as the kiss kept going, inspiring Seto to become a little more active.

The first thrust made Kisara catch her breath. The second had her digging her fingers into his hair and crushing their mouths even closer together, if that was possible. The third had Seto hooking an arm under one of her knees so that he was even more able to dive into her warm, welcoming, wet cavern.

Each thrust after took them higher, faster, and soon they weren't able to even keep their mouths connected in an out-of-this-world kiss. And, it didn't take long for them to get to the point that they both k new that neither of them could last for long.

Seto had his limits when it came to his hobby, but the look that came to Kisara's face at the moment when he climaxed within her and she climaxed around him was something that he would seriously consider setting up a video camera so that he could capture it over and over again.

* * *

><p>Kisara groaned in a playfully annoyed way as Seto got up to re-retrieve his camera. "You could just leave it on the nightstand, you know."<p>

Seto shook his head as he walked across the room to the window, stopping to pull on his boxers and jeans. "We've knocked over the nightstand before."

Kisara chuckled quietly. "True." She snuggled her face deeper into the pillow she had her arms around, looking like she could fall asleep even though it was against the rules.

The bed was in complete disarray and the robe she'd been wearing throughout was obviously not meant for any sort of "high-spirited" activity, its seams torn and the fabric distended all over. They wouldn't be using that outfit again, not that they ever repeated the exact same set and clothes (when she wore clothes).

"We're running behind schedule because of that haircut, so we'll just take a few pictures, okay?" Seto suggested, trying to appease her, considering her lack of enthusiasm

Kisara sighed. "Alright, but I call dibs on the shower first when we're done."

"'Kay," Seto agreed, as if she didn't always get the shower first.

When he heard Kisara chuckling to herself, he couldn't help but give her a wondering look.

In answer, she gave him a sweet, mocking gaze before saying, "And, you thought my choice of today's outfit and bedding were _tame_."

**Thanks for reading! Hopefully, the next chapter won't be so held up, but I'm not going to be promising anything this time.**

**The next chapter is going to give some more concrete details on what exactly has been established in the last four months between Kisara and Seto, so if you're somewhat confused, that's okay.**


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